


Cane

by ItDependsOnWhatYourFavorIs



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abuse period, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bill Cipher is a Jerk, Bill is slowly coming around., Blood, Cannibalism, Child Abuse, Dipper Pines Needs A Hug, Dipper was taken away as a baby, Dreams, Forgiveness, Gross, Hatred, Humiliation, Hurt, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Going to Hell, I'm Sorry, Idk any tags tbh, Insane Bill Cipher, Kidnapped Dipper Pines, Loving My Captor, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor Dipper, Stockholm Syndrome, Weird Plot Shit, degrading, self-hate, tags?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2020-01-15 02:58:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18489928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItDependsOnWhatYourFavorIs/pseuds/ItDependsOnWhatYourFavorIs
Summary: Being kept a prisoner; a slave, to his very whim since he could understand. He'd been under his thumb with only the vague memory of a girl with his face. His captor, a cane he kept at his side like a hound dog. Beating after beating. Being taunted and insulted.  Will he retaliate or sink like the others. Will he succumb to his sweet deed and fall for his transgressions. Love the wrong and hate his right.





	1. Happenings

**Author's Note:**

> This came from my Wattpad account. I'm just gonna post it on here as well. Hope you enjoy it, I (as sadistic as it is) enjoy writing this very much. Forgive me for any mistakes and any typos. I realize that this might be bad. Smooches!

The wintery outside had been drenched in white cold. The scenery looked fragile to the touch, only for touch. An elegant painting by a late creator with unsteady hands. It whispered glory and screamed slumber at once. Moment for moment of icy glaciers and perpetuate unpigmented background. It fascinated those who peered into it. Dipper was no exception to this. He sat on the intertwined colored window pane and stared out the frosty glass. He pressed his palm to the window and recoiled slightly, the coolness seemed unexpected. His closeness to the glass caused his breath to be visible and he took minimum appreciation in this factor. His express appeared placid and so did his body language. The room around him was only lit by the oddly calming light coming from the single window in the room. The room painted white and the furnishings kept the consistent color pattern. White everywhere. Dipper's lip twitched at the thought of it. All he had to accompany him in this boring environment was a bed, a small nightstand, and a one-door closet. His main door sat across from the window. Next to it was a little attached bell system.

The bells were all over the house.

Every room, every cavern and crevices. The bells rung nonstop through the day and well into the night. A normal person would've gone mad by now of the constant ringing, but not Dipper. He'd became accustomed and only dreaded which bell were to ring next. After the next and so on from there. His dull eyes still fixed interestingly upon the world outside the window. He breathed a sigh which violently caught in his throat as a sudden loud ringing sounded about his room. His muscles tensed as he quickly bolted from his place by the window and hastily pulled his door open. He scampered down the hall and down the flight of stairs into the vanity room. The room with all the bells. The room with his problems and no answers. He pulled a small marbled stool from under the cupboard and clambered onto it, opening the cabinet and searched for the sounding ring.

The kitchen.

Dipper heaved a sigh and swiftly directed for the kitchen. Once he stood in front of the two big sliding door, he paused. The doors were always too heavy for him to push but he managed each time. He stared at the doors and stuck his hands out. He pushed against the doors. His grunts and groans proved his struggle. The doors creaked open. Dull, brown eyes scanned for who had called him.  
The kitchen held what any normal kitchen would. A stove, a refrigerator, rows of cupboards and places for cutlery and utensils. The floor tiles with black and white and the walls painted with a warm yellow tone. It appeared busy but relatively empty. Frankly only two people stayed in this home. The kitchen was empty. No one, one of great stature he might add, in sight of the rather large room. Dipper cleared his throat. His muscles tensed once more as if realizing his mistake. His fist balled at his sides and he strode over across the kitchen and into an adjacent room. He slid open the door and.....

He taunted me......

Dipper quickly bowed in apology for his tardiness. His temples pooled with sweat and his mouth ran dry. Voice caught in his throat, he peered opposite of a lengthy, polished oak wood table. At the end sat a wolffish man dressed in all gold. The man's hands were intertwined over his folded legs and he smiled over the way at the timid boy in the doorway. His face looked somewhat appealing and possibly approachable. His smile too wide to be human, his eyes shaded a pure gold, his hair stood out in big comparison to his eyes. Dipper gulped at the sight of him.   
The man closed his eyes but his smile never flattered. The slight yet sudden crack of his neck caused Dipper to flinch. He stood in a swift movement. This caused Dipper to step back completely. The man opened his eyes slightly and his smile dropped completely once he laid eyes upon the fragile boy. He was unamused by Dipper's antics once again. He rose a leather gloved hand and snapped his fingers, pointing to the ground next to his sitting. Instinctively, Dipper made his way over to him, hesitation not present by this sudden request. His eyes averted the greater man's gaze as he stared at the tiny tiles that scattered the floor. Hands clasped over his chest and head bowed, bare feet fidgeting over one another, his mouth opened to speak but his brain fought against his wishes. The taller man stared down at him, a look of grimace and distaste on his face, he rolled his eyes with a scoff.

"Make yourself useful and fetch me some tea, louse.." His voice was laced with disgust. His eyes flickered to Dipper. His lip curled into a snarl seeing the boy hadn't moved. "Now!" He punctuated with a slam of his fist onto the table. Dipper stuttered a silent "yessir.." and quietly moves into the kitchen.   
He prepares the tea without another word and places the steaming drink on a porcelain tray, careful not to drop it. His hands shook as he walked steadily over to the greater man watching him impatiently. Dipper placed the tray in front of him, he quickly retracted his hands from it and stood poised next to the man.

Bill...Mr. Bill Cipher.

Dipper watched through his lashes as the man took the scolding drink to his lips and tasted it's bitterness. Dipper watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed it.   
There was a beat before violence. The boy stared, frightened, as the man's upper lip snarled like before and his eyes trained heavily on the tea rippled in his cup. Dipper bit his lip, knowing he's done wrong. He's always doing wrong. A sudden burning on his back reminded him of his latest mess ups. It flamed with vigor and irritated Dipper, but he knew to ignore it. He watched the other's eyebrows furrow together in aggravation then anger. His gaze trailed up from his cup to Dipper, "Close the door...now." His voice tight and mean. Dipper squeaked before running to the door and closing it. His back didn't turn before he barked another order, "Lock it." Dipper swallowed and did as he was told. The man from across the room stared at the trembling boy. Bill placed the cup down onto the tray and intertwined his fingers again. He grumbled one simple word.   
"Cane"

Dipper held his breath. Eye widened in fear, it practically dripped off of him. He knew Bill could smell it. The cane was to be feared in the eyes of those who disobeyed. Bill cherish it like with his heart, if Dipper felt he had one, and used it to his advantage. The cane only was wielded as one thing to Dipper.   
Punishment. Punishment he deserved. Something he remorses deeply.   
With shaky legs and buckling knees, Dipper walked slowly but with purpose. The cane was long and sturdy. Black and curved. It was Bill's favorite.   
Dipper reached the cane and brought it to Bill, unnoticeably stepping out of reach from him. He was so scared,on the verge of tears, he couldn't move. The ever so present inch in the back of his mind to run but he knew he'd never make it. He also had no where to run to. No one to go to, no arms to jump in when things got like this. If only for a moment could he try to get an answer to somewhere but here. Freedom only put a putrid taste in his mouth. He wanted to have it in his grips but he'd never received it. Dipper felt in his heart that he'd die here, by the hands of this man. The man that stood before him, not a man but a monster in a man's body. A demon that's doing the deed of torment and torture. Bill knew little of mercy and nothing of giving it. Begging only made him harder. At that point, Dipper preferred the cane rather than those days. Hot tears rolled down his face as he searched the other's eyes for some type of remorse for this. He found only hatred. His mouth opened without any thought. "W-why must you treat m-me this way." Regret took over him, finding himself instinctively apologizing.   
There was silence from the outside window....

Birds fluttered through the wintery trees. They squawked from there bungalows in the trees, leaving their young in the freezing world.

Breathing was the hardest part in waking up. Trying to figure out the correct way to breathe only hurt him more. These happenings happen so often he wasn't surprised anymore when he found himself waking up in a new place every time. The dining room, the living area, the bathroom, ...the bottom of the stairs. Nothing new. The twang of copper in his mouth edged his hungering stomach and made his head ache. His back burned and felt broken. His arms weak and so were his legs. His face looked like an absurd painting of abuse and neglect. In a lack of better context, he felt horrible and looked it too. Too tired to get up but too afraid of being hit again for being there. His mind wondered for a possible direction to go in. Some days are certainly better than others. The big house was quiet. Dipper stared at the ceiling, at the bell hanging above him on the wall. It didn't move. He supposed Bill had gone out again.

This warmed his heart a little.

Dipper stood with a cracking sound in his left leg. It carried him to the kitchen for his daily chores and scarce food supply. All he could do was bandage himself up and continue about his day. The walls creaked and the only noise came from the washing machine bumping against the wooden door behind it. He always did the laundry first. He felt it better that way. He carried the freshly folded clothing up the rickety staircase only to pause in front of Bill's bedroom door.   
He was forbidden to enter this room. Bill forbade him from entering his office downstairs as well. Dipper stared at his door as if to peer inside behind the door itself. He broke his gaze and placed his clothing on a stand near his room and carried on his way.   
The dishes were cleaned and put away. The floors swept, mopped and polished. The living area, organized. Dining room set with new table settings. The old house looked presentable again. Dipper dusted his hands onto his white shirt and looked down at the pool of caked up blood at his feet. It has been smeared and became thick and dried. Dipper got onto his knees and pressed his finger into it. He grimaced as it slushed against his index. He cleaned it quickly, staring and the spot it laid.   
Once his chores were done he ventured back up into his room and closed the door. The room was freezing cold. His body racked with a chill up his spine. He stood on the balls of his feet and hugged his body to himself. He could see his breath again. White clouds escaping from his chapped pink lips. Dipper took small appreciation in this. Slight envy of the gas escaping so easily when he could not go so far. He one day wished to be like it. He blew his breath again. He bounced on his toes before tip toeing over to the lonely window sill again. He sat with his knees to his chest and his arms hugging them close. He peered out behind the glass again into the cold unknown. His eyes dull once more.

He taunts me.....for years.


	2. Over The Course

The circle of life.  
Being born and cared for until you're ready to understand and grow on your own. Taking those smalls steps before breaking off into a running sprint. You'll stumble a little but realizing you can keep going only makes those inconvenience minor.   
What happens after? You simply just give it over again, the circle of life. Again and again and again.

The anniversary of the day on which a person was born, typically treated as an occasion for celebration and the giving of gifts. That is a birthday.   
Dipper never had one, he's not sure if he ever had one. He figured it was somewhere during the year but he just couldn't depict where. He'd ask Bill but he figured it was a simplistic topic and he'd giving one if he were to bring it up. He sighed against the glass and watched it fog up. He somehow always found himself thinking about this. A birthday. Sometimes he found himself yearning for the celebration of family and...

Family. He'd never had one of those. Bill was his only...family.

Yearning for the gentle loving and understanding. Hugs and kisses to wash away the bad days. To be held carefully as if to be so fragile, you'd break from the silent breath of a mother wrapped around your unstable frame. Pressing her warm lips to your forehead, telling you to not worry for she will hold you until you can stand again on your own. Strong and steady. Dipper noticed himself lightly grazing over his forehead through his extensive bangs and feeling his strange birthmark. His fingers gently tranced it. He stared at his bare feet, likely desiring a tender kiss upon his head too. His head hung low, looking through his hair he realized it badly needed to be cut. Bill never cut his hair. Bill never did anything for him. He turned his head back to the window, in time just enough to see a lonely black raven taking flight. Dipper had taken enjoyment in watching the birds lately. Their wings spread far. Flying with the wind pushing against them. Free.

Dipper wanted to taste it.

He eventually clambered off of the windowsill and into the adjacent bathroom. No decorations needed for it only matched the room next to it. Only white towels hung on the shower rail as a reminder for Dipper to take a shower sooner or later tonight. Everything was white white white. He didn't like it but said nothing. He opened the cabinet above the toilet and rifled through the mess present in there. Searching for those rusty scissors he'd used only once before. The memory of that event made Dipper's skin crawl. Made him sick to his poorly fed stomach. He'd rather forget that day.   
Eventually finding the scissors, he open and shut them over and over to make sure they'd still slice. He washed them off and dried them, placing a lock of his rugged brown hair in between the blades and began filing at it. The loose ends feel to his feet. In piles and piles of regret, it would seem. He'd done all he could do.

After finishing his amateur job at his haircut, he'd washed his face and hair. While drying it he heard the faint sound of a bell ringing.

Bill had returned.

He shook his hair and trotted down the hall and the staircase into the vanity room like he does every single minute of his consciousness. The bell had sounded in the kitchen again.   
This time Bill was actually in the kitchen. He was leaning on the counter with a placid look on his face. Staring off into space, and for him, it might've been quite literally. When Bill finally noticed the small boy standing in the doorway, his head turned slowly as if not to break his trace so soon then blinked at him.   
Dipper dared to speak to him, "s-sir?" He waited for the yelling and hitting and taunting....but none came. His body tensed. All of it. Every muscle, every joint locked. Honestly, he was terrified to do anything too drastic on Bill's watch. It scared him to the brink of obedience and vulnerability.

"What's wrong with the world today?" Bill asked, cocking an eyebrow at Dipper. Dipper said nothing. He didn't know how to respond to something like this. Bill had never opened a conversation onto him before, normally just orders and insults that he spilled from his mouth. So being presented with this was a first. "S-sir? I'm not a-sure what you mean..." Dipper hung his head low, averting his eyes from Bill. Hands folded in front of him.   
Bill looked up and cracked his neck from side to side before walking swiftly over to Dipper and crouching to his eye level. Dipper felt how close Bill was to him. He could feel his breath ghosting against his freshly wetted hair, strands of gold gracing his cheek, the silky fabric of his blazer rubbing across his skin. Bill was never this close before, not in this way at all, unless...

Dipper's body froze in place. His breathing stopped for a beat then turned into violent short breathes. A single hot tear streamed down his cheek and dripped onto his chest. That single tear turned into multiple but not a sound escaped from his throat. He stood still as Bill wrapped his arms around him, long fingers prodding up his shirt and gripping his stomach tightly. Sure to leave a bruise. Bill brushed a finger up Dipper's cheek and through his hair, moving it away from his reddened ear. Dipper stared straight ahead into the cupboard, too afraid to move for if he did it'd surely be hell. It already was. Dipper dreaded these days, he wished his body could get used to these forthcomings but every time was no different. He mentally counted the dishes placed neatly into little rows. Fine China at the top, daily glasses on the bottom. He was scared.   
1,2,3,4,5,6,7 and so on and on...

The whistling on a train sounded through the house. Faintly humming at Dipper's ears. He laid in his bed, splayed out in his nude with nothing but a blanket to cover his freezing body. His body hurt. The farther you went down the more it hurt. His neck littered with deep bites, some deep enough to break the skin. His body completely bruised and used by that monster. How did it come to this? How did he get here? Dipper will never know. He wishes he could die right now. To wither away from Bill, but deep down he knew Bill would find him and get him back. Death couldn't stop that monster and he knew it to be true and genuine.

Hours passed and Dipper eventually redressed himself and covered himself in his blanket. Warmth did not come easy in this part of the house. The highest peak had little to no heating circulation through it. Dipper somewhat believed Bill did it on purpose. He was used to his antics by now. He watched from his bed, out the window, at a different angle of the wintery land outside.  
The snow must feel nice right now.

Dipper sat in his room for hours. Never did anything but stare blankly out his window. It calmed his mind from the terrors that await. Bill never cared enough about his well being to bring him something to pass his time. Nothing at all. No checkers. No steel jacks and rubber ball, no nothing. It just made Dipper more of an attentive person really. More aware when he stared out the window. Made him possible to catch the slightest movement. He could see the street at one angle and a house in the other. Only miles away from him. Seen as perfect running distance. Perfect for escape. But dipper deterred from that thought. Escaping was the last thing he'd want to willingly do. Again.....

He could still remember the ache of his freezing bare feet in the hard stabbing snow. The way the wind rushed past him with full force. His hair whipping in different directions, at that time being long and covering his eyes only slightly. Breathing shallow and fast. In and out, in and out. Heart pounding in his ears. Actually hearing his blood flowing through him. He was scared. Fucking scared. He was running. Running away. Feeling his feet stomp through the ground he was running so hard! If not for his movements you'd see he was shaking. He was absolutely terrified.   
Not for what he had done.

For what was to come. Behind him at a steady pace.

He still remembers the way Bill's cane whipped across his back when he least expected it. He still remembers how far Bill seemed, but how close Bill actually was. The blood melting the snow as he was beaten and dragged back into the house.

He still remembers the scars. They remember him.

Dipper had chores to do. Pointless chores that were done before he got there. Bill never made a mess. Only doing so when he gave out his punishments. Leaving Dipper to clean them up. There was none of the moment so he stayed where he put himself and hoped for peaceful sleep to succumb to him.

When it did, it was anything but peaceful. They never were peaceful. Dipper never had dreams and only nightmares. Knowing it was only the fault of Bill and his antics. His beatings. His insults. His taunts and teases. His everything. Every pitiful sense of Bill Cipher. That monster. That demon of a man. He was nothing to Dipper. He owed him nothing and Dipper didn't see why he felt to be treated so lowly. The mirth of that monster only angered Dipper.

Bill showed no remorse for Dipper being in his life. He had noticed this. He only hurt his heart and body. Taking pride in his work of torment. One day Dipper would look back at this and laugh. Maybe even remember it as a dream and not real. Something so real he could feel it. Something so real he could taste the blood dripping from the orifices of his face. Something so real..... he could plainly understand the pain that shot through his mind and body and soul.

Something so real he could believe it actually happened. That it "wasn't a dream, Mabel!"

Mabel.....that name. He'd only felt it once.

He didn't have time to react as his entire body lurched from the bed onto the floor. He shook as his body racked with gasping breath. His face contoured with a series of emotions. Her name. Her name. Who was she? She? How did he know? Dipper's mind raced. The only thing coming to the forefront of his mind was a girl.   
She looked like him.

Her hair. Her smile. Her face. Her voice "Silly, Dipper."   
He jolted back violently. He groaned in pain, face planting onto the cold wooden floor.

Her voice. A familiar face he'd never seen. A voice he'd never heard. Where did it come from? Where did she go? Where did he go?

Nightfall came fast. It was a rare case for Dipper. Nighttime came moments of rest and peace. For most, it was a time to unwind and relax after a stressful day. Nighttime for Dipper meant sleeping at the far end of his bed, up against the headboard away from the door. This meant sleeping as tightly compacted as he could possibly be. This meant jolting awake at all hours of the night from the shifting of the house. This meant sleeping with one. eye. open. Watching the door like a hawk. Too scared to sleep properly. It's a shame really. A shame to be scared to sleep, scared to turn your back for a split second and finding someone there you'd rather not like to be there. A shame you wish to be dead somewhere rather than alive and barely breathing in the place you are. A shame for Dipper to not hear the door open in the midst of his thoughts.

A shame he somehow expected it by now.

He sometimes wondered if it would be different if he had a birthday?

What a shame he didn't.......


	3. Years Gone By

He had noticed his body changing. His body becoming taller and hairier. Becoming dirty and impure. He was aging. He didn't know he could do that.

Dipper had no idea what was happening to him. He realized when he suddenly could barely fit his clothing anymore. When his voice dropped several octaves lower than he'd normally registered himself as. When his body reacted to things in ways he'd never imagined.

Bill had noticed too. Finding that Dipper had become slower in his pace. And more tiresome. More irritable. More.....he couldn't put a finger on this conundrum. It made him furious yet intrigued all at once. It perplexed him deeply. Dipper could see that. He could tell Bill wasn't having any of this nonsense that was becoming of Dipper. It started of course when Dipper had a problem with his voice. Raising his voice at Bill was not something he was supposed to do. Becoming angry or sad or feeling any emotion towards Bill was not what he was to do. Arguing with Bill was not something he could do.   
But......Dipper could not help himself. He didn't understand where it had come from but wherever it did it changed him drastically. It needed to go back.

Bill called Dipper per usual. Waiting by the fireplace this time in his library, twiddling his thumbs back and forth. He looked bored. He always seemed bored as Dipper could see. He only tolerated him to the point of bothering. Bill had beckoned Dipper over to him with a curl of his index. His expression was bored. Dipper's expression was unamused. He felt tired and achy. Bill snapped his fingers to call Dipper over to him, he did as he was told and stood in from of the man. Towering over him immensely. Bill didn't like that. He much more appreciated it when the boy was smaller. More vulnerable. He thrusted his index downward as if to tell the boy to kneel. Dipper did nothing. He stood there, watching Bill unambiguously. His face read, "try me". Bill frowned and instructed him again. This time he idly complied with a roll of his eyes and a huff from his chest. Bill ignored that response, "Entertain me, boy". Now, being in this situation long enough, Dipper would know how to respond to this. Not saying anything at all and doing as he was told. Complying with him and taking whatever shit he gave him. He knew better. Bill knew he knew better.  
He didn't want to know better anymore.

"No," Dipper stated plainly. He looked at Bill broadly. Bill did not expect that at all. He didn't expect it to the point he jerked forward and spit out whatever the hell he had been drinking. His face contoured to anger. Serious anger seeped from his nostrils. His face a furious red color. Dipper could've sworn he glowed a bright orange hue and his hair changed to a darker shade than before. He was sure of it. Bill's hand reared back in an attempt to strike Dipper. In a fit of anger, he only caused Dipper to instinctively reflex. He expected this of course after years of torment and taunt. Dipper caught his arm in mid-swing. He held him by the forearm. This had been the first time ever that Dipper purposefully touch Bill. He felt how slender his arm was. He wondered if the rest of his body felt like this. He wasn't malnourished of course, but his body said otherwise. He wasn't a brittle man, he had strength. Dipper was, to say the least, intrigued by Bill. That scared him. It scared him more when realization sunk in at what he had done.

He recoiled his hand fearfully. He cowered in on himself, curling into a small ball and scooting away from Bill. He expected the fiery sensation of pain to shoot through him. The blistering ache of blows to his body. He expected Bill to have told him off in his loud booming voice dripping with venom by now. But.....nothing came. It was stupid, he peeked through the cracks in the crevice of his elbow and saw Bill staring shocked at his own arm. Puzzled and slightly out of breath. His nostrils flared and his lips slightly agape. Dipper watched him. Accidentally making eye contact, Bill spoke softly. For once, he actually spoke to him instead of yelling like always.   
"Go to your room, boy.......but clean the stairwell before you do...." it wasn't an advanced sentence. It didn't seem concentrated, but void of emotion. Bill didn't look appeased.   
Dipper did as he was told and left Bill he.   
Dipper had changed. He looks changed and felt it too.   
He felt older and looked that way....too. His face grew hair and so did his legs and arms and...other places. He sounded deeper than before, deeper than Bill but still high in regards to being young. His clothing fit him tightly. So tight that he started ripping them accidentally.

Was this change normal?

Dipper found himself on his knees in the stairwell, scrubbing the stairs with sudsy water and a bristled hand brush. He scrubbed each and everyone, up and down, side and side and each crevice and crack. He was out of breath by the end of it. Whipping the sweat from his forehead, looking over his work. He threw the brush into the water and began to carry the bucket of sludge down the slightly wet stairs. Dipper had been used to this. Knowing how to properly walk down a slippery staircase. However, it should've been heed of warning when telling Bill that the staircase was wet and not good to properly walk on just yet. His mouth was glued shut as Bill slowly emerged from around the corner, muttering to himself about something. Dipper watched from his peripheral vision as he cleaned his mess, watching sinisterly as Bill idly began to climb the stairs. The imagine of Bill breaking his nose on the steps upon falling made him giddy. Years of torment from that monster, he deserves his own medicine. Now the better person in his heart tells him "speak up" and "don't stoop to his level of idiocies", and Dipper would've listened if it weren't for the constant memories of being beaten on those very stairs. Memories of being left unconscious on those stairs for days. Stepped over and forgotten. It made his blood boil. He nearly spilled the bucket of water in his hands. Bill deserved, earned, warranted, whatever the fuck you wanna spell it out as he rightfully granted the punishment of being tortured to the brink of death for how he's treated him. But a bruised knee and bloody nose would suffice for now.

Ask, and dear Dipper you shall receive. The satisfying sound of a thud. Not just any thud, but the sound of a body falling, tumbling, down and smacking the ground. Dipper relished in the sound of a slur of curses that followed the fall. The hissing and groaning in pain. Oh, Dipper just fluttered with glee. A small sly smile spread across his healing lips. He savored in the sadistic moment only a little longer before, running to his aid like a medic on high wheels.   
The sight was even better.   
The way look, almost tantalizing. He choked down a smile. "Sir?! Are you alright?!"   
Bill said nothing. He pushed Dipper away before standing, struggling, to his feet and dragged himself up the stairs, more carefully this time. He didn't look back at Dipper. It was lucky he didn't for he would've caught the smile that spread evilly across Dipper's lips. He stayed positioned at the end on the stairwell. Smiling up in the direction Bill had gone. He felt accomplished. Justice for his younger self. The hurt he felt long ago to festered up inside him to the brink of anger and sadistic thoughts. He'd never thought of this, never had it crossed his mind as his younger self. So caught up in his own self-loathe and pain that he never thought to hurt him back. Never thought to torment him the same as he.   
To kill Bill (Hardy har har). No no, murder wasn't what he wanted. He wasn't a murderer. He'd never kill someone, he wouldn't let himself seep so low. But he wanted to. Badly.

Eventually, the stairs dried and his mess was cleaned up and put away. Bill came around again, looking better since the fall. A few scratches never hurt anybody. Dipper surely knew this. He had his back turned to the kitchen door, washing away at the dishes and paying no mind to Bill as he trudged into the kitchen. Unfazed by his presence. The clinking of glassware against each other and the sound of running water was the other resonating off the kitchen walls. Dipper had let his hair grow longer from his younger self. Touching his shoulders. He tried his best to keep it groomed and clean. If he had nothing else in his life to take pride, lest it is himself. He told himself he would take pride in his hair. Bill couldn't really take it from him. Can he?

Dipper so lost in his thoughts and the task at hand that he'd completely forgotten Bill had been in the kitchen with him. He was startled out of his state by the sharp yank of his hair, he was reared back to look up at who had pulled his it. Bill of course. Who else could it be? His back was arched slightly against the chest of his ever-present torturer. He struggled. Pulling his hands out of the cloudy water to retract the tight hands from his sensitive locks. He grunted out, feeling Bill's intense body heat on him. Unmoving and watching the boy struggle for him to let go. His struggling only causes him to pull tighter. He cries out. Tears prickled his eyes and threatened to spill over. He bared his teeth and strained his neck, God it hurt.   
Bill suddenly yanked him upward, "You did it on purpose, didn't you?" His breath ghosted over the shell of his ear. Dipper said nothing, only struggling more. Bill was not satisfied with this.   
Dipper screamed as his head was submerged into the water filling the kitchen sink. He was drowning him. Or at least trying to in an attempt to get his point across. Dipper fought against him, kicking his legs at Bill, trying to push himself up under Bill's strength only for him to seize them both in his grasps. He held him under the water as he silently screamed. Thrashing around and trying to get away. Honestly, he hasn't been this scared in a long time. He didn't want to die.

The sweet sensation of oxygen torn into his lungs as he gasped and coughed, hacking up water onto the floor. The front of his hair had been drenched along with the rest of his face. Breathing heavily, his knees buckled and he collapsed onto the floor. Bill towered over him angrily. "Did you do that on purpose boy!?" He screamed at him. Dipper was angry. Fire hot mad. He tried to drown him. He tried to basically kill him over something that could've damn well been a mistake on his hands! Dipper festered up his emotions and looked Bill dead in his eyes. He screamed at him. He forced out all his pain and screamed at him. "You told me to clean the floors you dunce! If you weren't so caught up in your own world you wouldn't have fallen. You tried to kill me! I hate you. I hate you!" Breath racking his small frame. He hugged himself tightly, dripping on the floor. Bill hauled Dipper up by his shoulders suddenly and shook him harshly. Baring his teeth at Dipper. Dipper fought back at him, slapping and scratching at him. Kicking and pushing him away, still screaming that he hated him. "Goddammit Dipper listen to me!" Dipper froze at the use of his name. Bill had never used that name before. Dipper was his name due to the mark on his forehead. He called himself that after reading the astrological books from Bill's library. He stopped fight Bill, he didn't know Bill knew that name.

"H-how do you... know my name?"

Bill's sudden expression showed one Dipper had not seen before. This scared him. Bill had done nothing for him since he could remember. Only causing him hurt and suffering. Leaving him alone for hours on end was the only nice thing Bill had done in regards to the boy. That's all he ever wanted was to be alone. But now, he's older and craves more. He craves the sweetness of freedom. He wants out.

"Tell me how you know my name, tell me now or let me go!" Dipper demanded.

"Boy, you do not talk to...."

"Don't 'boy' me! Let me go! Let me out of this house! I hate you!" Dipper spat at him. It landed on his cheek and slid down to his chin. Bill released Dipper, only to move his hands to grasp around his neck. "What has gotten into you boy! I thought you'd know not to speak to me that way!"  
Dipper screamed. "I-I...." He silenced himself and hung his head low. 

"Shame, he didn't notice the cane in his hand either."


	4. Could This Be Enough

The sound of a door slamming awoken Dipper from his unconscious state. He jerked violently up only to cry out in immense pain. He gripped his side tight and clenched his teeth together hard. Excruciating pain burned through him. He had been laying on the stairs, pummeled and left for dead. He'd really done it this time. He felt the dried and fresh blood on him. Each and every bruise and ache. He screamed loudly with each movement. Each twist and turn of his arms and legs made him want to just cry. To yell his lungs out. Not just for the pain, he was feeling right at this moment, but the fact that all of this happened to him. Was happening to him. Why was this happening to him? He remembers the vivid montage of the beating. Having his ass handed to him, more or less, physically. The way he threw him and stomped him down, the way each and every strike of his cane felt and blossomed a beautiful bruise. The way he cut him up and spit at him just as he did. Taunting him, saying that he would never leave this good forsaken house. For him to eat his bitch of a heart out. He even remembers the way his body convulsed and jerked when his body started to shut down like it always did. Like a demon had possessed his body and tried to get out the way it had come in. His body felt like it had been electrocuted. Like Bill wanted him to die.

Eventually, he had clambered up the stairs into the bathroom and looked at how his body contoured and bled and screamed for him to throw himself out his bedroom window. He gripped the counter with dyed red fingers and stared himself down. Breathing rigid as if he'd been in the cold for too long. Looking at himself now, he remembers everything was so real. It was real. He felt cold and shaky. Convulsing here and there as if was being shocked every now and again. His image scared him. Was this the power Bill had over him? Was this all that he could do or was there more power he was hiding away from him? God....what if he's holding back? That thought made Dipper clench his bloodied teeth. Oh god, he was a mess.   
Face cut up and bruised, white t-shirt now red with his blood. He more than likely had a broken rib or arm. He just had to, the pain in his side and in his other limbs don't normally hurt this bad...

Normal? Was what was happening to him normal? Dipper would never even know. Unless of course, Bill threw him out finally. But likely that'll never happen either.

He trudged out of the bathroom. Walking a few feet, engulfed in the screaming hot blistering pain that shot through him, only to collapse in his mist. Jerking and jolting his muscles, hardly breathing. He was spitting up, blood most likely, and drooled down the side of his face. Trying to scream, but nothing coming out, clenching his teeth tightly. The world was spinning and changing rapidly across his vision. He couldn't move, even if he wanted to, only in increments of large spasms. He managed to flip over onto his stomach, coughing up a mixture of spit and blood, spilling on the floor. His vision was going in and out. Focusing and unfocusing every so often. It was seemingly calming honestly. It would be calming if it were not for constant spasms he was experiencing. The corners of his vision prickled with tears and darkness. His eyes grew wide as his hacked and heaved to breathe correctly. With a final thump of his head against the wooden floor beneath him, he managed to knock himself out completely. He was soon consumed by his approaching unconsciousness.

"Wake up Dipper!" A bright white light seeped into the room he was in. Hurting his eyes, he covered his face with a pillow. It was soon yanked off of his face and replaced with a smiling girl with shimmering brackets on her teeth and lips that sparked with lipgloss. Her eyes were dark seas of wonder that matched her long, flowing hair perfectly. A cute button nose that fit her face well and big red rosy cheeks that brightened her whole aurora. She dressed in all smiles and sunshine, a sweater in the middle of July was beyond him in reason, she matched from head to toe in pink. She bounced on the balls of her feet. He smiled warmly at her with a relaxed expression. Seeming concerned and alerted at first. "G'morning Mabel"

She attacked him with a brutal hug around his neck. This was her thing, to be all happy no matter the situation. It melted his heart. He patted her back and she let go, flipping her hair over her shoulder, she proceeded to pull Dipper out of bed. He watches her struggle for a minute or two before complying with her request and getting himself out bed on his own. He placed his fist at his hips and looked at her childishly. "Are you happy now? I'm up I'm up. What's on your palate today?" He asked. Mabel began bounding around the room in a skipping fashion, "A little bro-sis time. I made my special 'Mabel-cakes' downstairs. C'mon or they'll get cold" She bounced out the door and continued down the stairs.

"Is it better here, Pinetree?"

Dipper whipped around to stare behind him on his empty bed. Nothing was there, only the rumpled bed spread. No one was there in the room with him but he swore he'd heard a voice so closely in his ear. Paranoid, he started to pull his shirt over his head. His edge died down upon hearing Mabel yell from downstairs that he'd better hurry. Sticking his leg throw one of his short legs he'd heard it again. "Do you like it here, Pinetree?"Louder this time. A booming voice, a forced to be reckoned with.   
Pinetree? Who is Pinetree? His head started spinning as voices of all kind were filling his ears. What did they want? Who's better here? Is there else where? Pinetree? Pinetree? Pinetree? Who's that?   
It scared him. He couldn't move anymore. His arms locked around him as his legs buckled.   
He cried out for Mabel. For anyone. Help him.   
"M-Mabel!" He didn't hear his voice though. No sound escaped him. Was he going to die? If not, is he being abandoned? Was he imagining? All this time. There was a sour taste in his mouth.   
A warm hand grazed his face, he only recognized it to be Mabel at long last. Coming to aid him. What her voice spoke didn't comfort him at all though.

"He took you away from us Dipper"

Who did?

"He said you were special. He needed you"

Mabel, who?

"He didn't want to be without you, Dipper"

They hurt you, Mabel. Who did this to us?

"Declared for you to never see us again, to never see me. To never know anything else but him"

Her tears were wet on his shoulder. Her arms secured around him right as she wept. "You've died, Dipper" What did she mean? He was right here with her. In her arms, as she cried over him. He wasn't gone, he couldn't be. Not without her. How could he—

"Bill took you, Dipper. You've been lost".....

He has gasped. Jolting forward and hitting his head on the wall in front of him. He winced in pain a gripped his forehead. Cursing to himself, he suddenly remembered what he had been dreaming. It hit him like a two-ton truck. He quickly stumbled out of bed. Wavering side to side, trying to regain his balance. It couldn't be possible, h-he didn't even know her. He'd never seen another living person in his life. But her tears felt so real. Her voice sounded so hurt and it broke his heart. What the hell was happening. He clenched the side of his head as his mind raced. He couldn't breathe, the world was spinning. He needed to catch himself before he completely loses himself. He stumbled down the hallway, holding himself tightly against the wall to not fall down the stairs.

He found Bill, sitting in the library behind his desk. He was shifting through some papers. Wearing his glasses, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Bill was known for being a workaholic. A last-minute workaholic. He procrastinated everything. Whether it was important or not he waited for it to become almost too late to grasp what he was to do in his thick skull. But Bill never waited when it came to him wanting something. He took it with both hands and kept it close. He never let it go until it bored him half to death and he throws it away to find something new. That wasn't the case for Dipper. That probably will never be the case.

Bill shuffled through more papers. Dipper trudged closer to him. Stumbling into the reading area and almost collapsing onto his desk. God, he felt like throwing up. He felt light as a feather yet heavier than he's ever felt in his entire life. Bill eventually looked up to see the wreckage that had interrupted his business. He rolled his eyes as Dipper stood in front of him....barely standing honestly. Bill sighed. "What? I'm busy." Bill spat and began to continue his payments until a calloused and bruised hand slammed the papers down right out of his grasps. Bill looked up to see a sight of anger and distraught in the eyes of the mere burned out body in front of him. He scoffed, "Now, what ever was that for? You know your place, boy, now stay in it..." Bill's voice was threatening. Dipper's nostrils flared. Looking Bill deeply in his eyes, "Don't 'boy' me. I have a fucking name. Use it...." Bill clicked his tongue. Standing up while straightening his papers, Bill continued to click his tongue. Slowly it seemed. Like a ticking clock, he snapped his tongue from the roof of his mouth, creating a click with each movement he made. He slowly stopped and glared up at Dipper, who angrily clenched and unclenched his fist at his side. Bill clicked his tongue once more, before waving a single digit at Dipper, as if saying, "Looks as if someone's stepped out of line." Bill casually strode from around his desk.....smirking? This made Dipper's temper rise. Bill continued to walk around Dipper. He wrapped his arm around Dipper's chest, in a somewhat comforting way. Oh, Dipper just wanted to break that arm. Dipper pushed Bill's arm away from him, turning around. This surprised Bill. He chuckled. "Not a fan of touching, boy? I'd beg to differ considering how much you practically scream for my touches when I'm ramming myself inside you." he stepped closer, whispering in Dipper's ear almost mockingly. "How much you scream my name. Begging me to stop and let you go, deep down knowing how much you crave me." Dipper could hear the smile in his voice. Dipper gasped, horrified at what Bill must've thought of his cries for help were just screams for more. How could anyone think those pitiful cries were anything but a sign of distress. Dipper was disgusted by Bill's display of affection towards him. 

Throwing Bill off of him, he gathered his thoughts. He stared at the man, no, the monster smiling at him. Mirthfully. Disgusting. 

"You honestly believe that I scream for the enjoyment of your abuse? That I scream for you to continue to do what you've done to me all these years, you fucking monster! And to look me in my face and tell me that you believe that my pleas for some fucking release is your sick twisted way of getting off. I've been in this godforsaken house for as long as I can remember and all you have ever done was treat m like shit! I hope you burn in hell, you apathetic son of a bitch." Dipper screamed his words at Bill. Letting his anger and frustration fester up for some long to burst out like it just did felt fucking fantastic. Hot tears streamed slowly down his face. God, he was so tired of crying. So tired of feeling this way that he couldn't comprehend the meaning of the word "touch-starved." Never in his life had he ever said more than 6 words to Bill. Never in his life had he raised his voice to Bill. All of this was coming too fast onto him until now. Oh, how he loved it. He stepped forward to Bill, pointing an accusing finger at him like a tattle tail child he felt he was being. Bill stood perfectly still only slightly confused by the boy's "unnecessary" outburst. It was so funny to him really, he chuckled lightly. Dipper paused at his actions. "What's so funny?" Dipper asked. This caused Bill to double over completely into a laughing fit. Holding his stomach and nearly falling over his own two feet. Dipper waited for him to finish and once he did, he wiped a tear from his eye. "You really are quite the joke there, boy. Anger isn't your thing, is it really?" Bill teased. Dipper scoffed at his words. Suddenly, Bill's face turned rather cold. Staring deeply at Dipper. "I don't take nicely to louse so below me to dare twiddle their thumbs in contemplation of speaking to me. I do not take people such as you to have such an audacity to raise their voice even so much as an octave too high in regards to me and my actions. Do you think that you are any better? That you are an exception to those before you to have done what you have just done?" Bill strode forward at a rapid pace, reaching Dipper rather quickly before raising his hand to strike him. Dipper did not flinch this time. Standing strong against Bill's unholy wrath. Not this time. 

Dipper blocked Bill's quick hand with his own. Surprising him and Bill both, but not letting his expression show. Dipper gripped Bill's wrist tightly, not wanting to let him go for another hit. Dipper spat venom with his words, "I can have the right to speak to you however I do please. I have taken you shit for the passing years of my life, take it how you want, "buddy" but you can not keep me here any longer." 

Dipper turned and left to pack his bags and this time he meant to leave for good. No bullshitting, no flaking out of trying to leave again. He was serious this time around and Bill was not going to stop him. He wasn't scared of Bill's power that he held against him. This would be his season of a new life after several long years of the traumatic old one he so desperately tried to live back then.

"You can't keep me down any longer."

Fucking cheap words to eat on a silver platter......


	5. Save Your "Sorry"

Dipper had no idea where he was going. He had no idea where he was in the first place. All he knew was that he had no intentions to stay in this damn house. Furiously shoving whatever little clothes he had into a trash bag, he walked over to his ever beloved window seat and stared longingly into the everlasting winter that grew on beyond this house. He was honestly surprised that Bill would let him leave so easily, or refused to chase after him as he stormed away after his confrontation with him. Bill seemed puzzled by Dipper's display of anger and hatred towards him, almost as if he enjoyed the fight that was being presented to him. Dipper paused his actions and thought only for a moment, "He wanted me to do this, wanting me to lash out at him and fight him and yell at him and, and....." Dipper slumped in his seat. Sighing at how blind he had been for not seeing BIll's intentions before. How he had not seen Bill's expression was beyond him and his anger. However, that did not matter to him in the slightest and he still had the heart to leave Bill and his torment behind. 

Dipper trudged down the stairs, slugging the trash bag full of clothes over his shoulder. To his surprise, Bill was still in his same spot since he had stormed upstairs, hand covering his mouth in a somewhat pondering manner. He looked as if had been rocked off his boat, his hair was mussed with a few cowlicks sprouting up over his forehead and he had bags under his eyes as if he had not slept in over a month. Dipper gave a cough to announce his presence. Bill looked up angrily, snapping his neck to the right and giving Dipper a low growl from the pit of his chest. Dipper was unfazed. He had experienced worse. He was, of course, still scared of Bill. Still scared of what he had yet not thrown at him. He could not. Bill stormed towards Dipper and slapped him across the face. Dipper had expected it honestly, he expected the push that came afterward too. "You're worthless! You hear me, worthless! I never wanted you in the first place, but you can't leave this place--" Dipper laid motionless on the cool tile floor, his clothes were scattered all over. He stared up at Bill, hatred in his eyes. 

"And why can't I? You don't want me here, so I'll go!"

"No, you can't" Bill towered over Dipper as he laid there on the floor, dropping on to him and clasping his cold hand around his throat. Gasping for air, "Get off me, I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" Dipper cried helplessly as he struggled against Bill. Punching, kicking, thrashing around, and screaming was all he could do to fight back against him. How had he thought his life would come to this? He couldn't remember a life before this if he had to be completely true with himself. What could his life have been life without Bill in it? Better? Who could have saved him?

"Mabel"

Dipper gasped for air as Bill released his grip on his throat. Dipper's vision was hazy. Barely able to see, barely breathing; he was a mess of things. 

"What did you just say?" Bill questioned. Breath hard in his ears, the question didn't register in his mind, only a murmur in his ears. Bill's strong grip shook him from his daze, the pain from his face told him that he had just been hit again. Hard. He cried pitifully at Bill. He was tired and breathless. His head hung back in exhaustion, no more power in him to fight. "What did you just say, boy?" Bill screamed at him again. 

"Mabel! She loved me, I had a family and you took me from them! You took my life away from me, you bastard!" Dipper sobbed hysterically. He laid limp on the floor underneath Bill. He continued to cry into the floor, spit and tears mixing under his cheek. "I h-hate you, I hate you so f-fucking much..." Bill rose off of Dipper and sat a few feet away from him, holding his hand over his mouth again, but a look of....remorse was plastered on his face this time. Dipper thrashed around some more, screaming like he was being put through excruciating pain. The screams from what happened on the stairs last night, the ones that could not escape him until now. But honestly, he was in pain; since he could remember he was in pain and the realization of how long it took him to understand that was so sad. The house laid silent save for the screams of Dipper. "Shut up! Shut up, Shut up, Shut up!" Bill screamed at Dipper but to no avail; he continued to scream. For hours it had seemed. Bill had nothing left to say to him, Dipper took great appreciation in his sudden silence. 

"Take me back. Take me back home...."

"Is it anything like it is at home, Bill? Does it continue to snow like it always does or does it get warmer outside?" Bill smiled at Dipper, holding him close in his arms. "It's not exactly how it is back home, but it is a little warmer. I'm sure you'll adjust just fine." Bill spoke sweetly. He gazed his hand across Dipper's forehead, sweeping his bangs away from his face, showing his unique birthmark. Bill smile softened. " I appreciate you for accompanying me today, you really make me happy. Dipper..." Dipper giggled, "I wanted to come silly! I love you, Bill!" 

Bill said nothing back. Holding his hand in Dipper's, they walked silently into a big house upon a hill. The outside was a plain Hailey grey color with white on the borders. The house looked old and run down, the stairs were slanted, shifted to the side in a zig-zag formation. The plant life outside appeared dead and sludgy from the melting snow. Dipper looked pitifully at the dying flowers in the yard, he then lifted his gaze to look at Bill. He grimaced, "Why are they dead, Bill? Why are they not well?" Bill's expression shifted slightly, one of regret it seemed. Looking Dipper in the eye, he grieved deeply into those brown orbs of wonder. "To be...To have....." He couldn't come to words with what he was trying to tell Dipper. 'Why do things die?' Bill asked himself. "They die for a reason. To live a better life somewhere else, somewhere where they'll be happy." Dipper smiled at that. He lowered his head a little, frowning. "Do we die too, Bill? Do we die if we are not happy?" Bill stared silently at Dipper, watching him look up with small tears prickling the corner of his eyes. "Will I die if I am not happy?" 

Bill's heart crumpled as he uttered those words. He gently scooped Dipper into his arms, holding him close. 

Words can not describe the way I feel when I hurt you. When I see bruises blossom on your pale skin and oh, how you cry, they just tear me down. I cannot blame you for what I have done to you for I only wanted to keep you safe. I have let you down....as a friend? As a lover.....as a person who you should've put your trust in. I wanted that for you, Dipper. I have something I cannot control inside of me. You should've not had to see me the way I am. 

"For I am a monster...."

Dipper gasped. Breathing hard and looking around his surroundings. He was still in his room. As empty as it was before. Anger festered up inside him. He couldn't be back here, not after what had happened last night. Sunlight beamed through his window, buzzard were swarming around the trees outside. Dipper stood to sit at his window but was pulled back by something cold wrapped somewhat loosely around his wrist. He looked down at his arm and traced his gaze back to his wrist and then to the bedpost. He had been handcuffed to his bed. He tugged at it, watching his bed scruff against the splintering wood floor. His mind raced sideways, bile rose quickly in his throat. Horrible realization struck him like a truck. He covered his mouth with his free hand and stared down at his chained wrist. "I'm never getting out of here, am I?", he whispered to himself. He let out a blood-curdling scream. He dropped to his knees and cried once more. thrashing and punching the mattress repeatedly in frustration. He screamed till his throat was sore and his voice was raspy. He cried till his cheeks were puffy and tear-stained, his eyes were red and his head ached extremely bad. Through his tantrum he had not noticed that he had cut himself on the handcuffs, red lines were present around his wrist with small cuts littered here and there. Looking at himself, he realized he was a mess. He was so tired of fighting, tired of living at this point, tired of just putting up an effort to stop what was eventually going to happen to him. He laid his head on his mattress, still sitting on the floor with his hand still locked to the top of his bedpost. His stomach growled, but he said nothing to notify Bill of his minor distress. Starving himself would probably be his only way of escaping this hellhole. 

Dipper drug his self upon his bed and laid there for the majority of his days and nights. He grew sad over the course of time which he quickly presumed to be the growth of minor depression. He barely ate anymore, barely spoke, neither to Bill nor himself and barely left his bed at all. There was a dent in his mattress from the constant wear of him being in it. His hair grew long and his body had somewhat of a putrid odor lingering on him. He had no mind to care at all since he was the only one who had to live in it and Bill only came in on varied occasions. He was unbothered. 

One gloomy morning, Bill flung the door open with a look of slight disgust on his face. He clicked his tongue with an audible "tsk" and walked slowly over to Dipper's bed. He peered down at Dipper with narrowed eyes, "Get up, you need a shower. You smell and it's disgusting for you to look the way you do. You're a mess." Dipper did not move an inch from his spot, his back was towards Bill as he stared blankly at the wall in front of him. Bill sighed, "Boy, I said--" Dipper interrupted Bill with a loud grunt. "I heard you, dammit. Just because I need it doesn't mean I want it. Do us both a favor and kindly fuck the hell off." Those had been the first words he had uttered to Bill since he had woke up tied to his bed. Bill had been the one to say the most out of both of them since the incident, yelling and pulling at Dipper's nerves for the soul purpose of "his apology". Bill would eventually give up after a few tries at Dipper and for his sake, Dipper would wish he'd give up entirely one of these days. However, today was not the day, Bill continued to press for Dipper to listen to him. "C'mon, get up! You have to wash your disgusting body." Dipper's body slightly tensed up but soon relaxed as he gave up on talking. He turned over onto his back and looked up at Bill, completely unfazed. "Leave me alone, Bill. Go back and bother someone else." Dipper punctuated his statement by turning back over and sighing through his nose. The hairs on his upper lip tickled as he sighed, making him realize how much he has grown up since the beginning. His body had grown out into a slightly muscular form and he started sprouting hair in various areas. He was completely older and felt even older than he was.

Bill sighed and ran his fingers through his slicked back hair. His shoulders slumped over and closed his eyes a moment to think. When he reopened them, his eyes were caught on the handcuffs that linked Dipper's wrist to his bedpost. He stretched his lips into a thin line and sighed again. He reached over to Dipper's wrist and began to unlock the cuffs. Dipper flinched at the sudden contact but remained silent as he freed him from his confines. The metal thud of the cuffs hitting the ground caused Dipper to flinch a little too hard for his liking. He slowly, as if fearfully, turned to face Bill. They locked eyes with one another but shared different expressions. Dipper slowly rose up into a sitting position while rubbing his sore wrist and never taking his eyes off of Bill. Like a deer caught in headlights, Dipper watched Bill as he made his way out towards the door, probably to start Dipper's bath water. Dipper stood to follow him, obediently. He had spent most of his days in bed so his footing was not necessarily quick to catch him, stumbling over a few times and leaning on the walls around him. Bill said nothing but Dipper was certain he had heard his fumbling. He stopped by the stairs and peered down. He could run, couldn't he? Just leave? The thoughts of the day he tried to run away were flashing across his mind. He shuttered at that. Bill was too quick and he was too weak to run anywhere. 

Upon entering the bathroom, Dipper had an overwhelming feeling of nausea. He grasped tightly on the porcelain counter top and breath deeply through his nose, trying to regain himself. His stomach churned over and over, mental imagines flashing across his mind of what happened that day. He had no idea what could have caused it but was sure it had something to do with Bill. Bill turned around to face Dipper. Using his hands to maneuver Dipper's droopy face to look at him, Bill made eye contact with Dipper again. His expression showed concern and apathy all at the same time. Dipper saw this through droopy eyelids and questioned Bill's emotions carefully in his mind. Dipper looks absolutely exhausted. He could barely keep himself standing, having to lean on the sink for support. Bill shook Dipper lightly, 'C'mon wake up. You gotta get in the bath." Dipper nodded groggily, pressing his lips into a thin line and shutting his eyes tightly. Dipper slowly began to remove his shirt, stumbling a few times over, then he started to remove his boxers. Bill stayed silent, watching Dipper closely as he undressed, waiting for him to finish so he could put him in the bath. Dipper stood there in front of Bill, naked in all his glory as he swayed back and forth gently with a look o exhaustion over his face. He had spent most of his imprisonment in bed, sleeping or just lounging around so he had no idea why he was so succumbed by his sudden lethargy. He yawned and waited for Bill to run his water and get in. 

Bill was oddly quiet. Too quiet for this man of many words to not have said more than 10 to Dipper since they walked into the bathroom. Dipper tried to still his swaying in an attempt to regain his motor skills. "Why are we.....in here?" Dipper spoke groggily. "I told you I didn't need to bathe." Bill stared at Dipper, "You need to have a bath, you're absolutely disgusting and its wafting through the whole house. Now," Bill reached for the water faucet and turned it to the right, "Get in." Bill pointed to the tub. Dipper stared blankly at the tub, yawning again to try to wake himself up. " Bill, I am not getting in that tub. I'm going back to bed." Dipper grabbed his clothes from the floor and gently pushed the bathroom door open to walk back to his room. Bill grabbed his arm and tugged him back inside, "You are going to get in this water and bathe! I will not repeat myself again!" Bill struggled as Dipper resisted against him, trying to get him to release him. Bill was becoming angry. He was trying to be nice this time around and at least help him get clean, but he was being stubborn and fighting against him. "Let me go! I'm not getting in that tub!" Dipper snatched his arm away from Bill's grasp, pushing Bill back. Bill stared at him with an expression of rancor and disbelief. He growled at Dipper before grabbing him, struggling of course, and throwing him into the tub. Dipper hissed as he made contact with the metal tub, catching his ankle on the side causing it to slice open and throb and bleed slightly. Bill huffed loudly, his anger was clearly visible on his face. Bill knelt down and gripped Dipper by his shoulders and shook him vigorously against the tub. He was disillusioned, his mind was shaken. Dipper slumped against the side of the bin, breathing shallow. Bill stood swiftly, turning the faucet to the cold side. He watched Dipper begin to shiver and proceed to get out of the tub before he stopped him, slamming him into the back of the tub a few times."Don't. Get. Out. The. Tub!" he punctuated with each forced slam. Dipper eventually slumped back into the tub once more before closing his eyes and sinking half way down into the freezing water. 

Dipper was startled awake by freezing water being splashed on his head. He shook violently as he dripped with water, looking up to find Bill glaring down at him. Dipper stared fearfully into his eyes, "W-why did you keep me in h-here? I'm fr-freezing." Dipper sputtered out. It was probably dark outside now. He had been in here for hours. Bill said nothing to him, just staring angrily at him. Why hadn't he retaliated yet? Why was Dipper just letting this happen and not standing up for himself? He was scared again, scared of Bill's power. He felt weak again, vulnerable. Dipper sucked in a gasping breath and sobbed dryly. Bill, without breaking eye contact with Dipper, reached to turn the shower faucet on. A cold jet of water sprayed onto Dipper's shaking form. He screamed loudly scrambled loosely out of the cold tub onto the freezing tile floor. Bill bared his teeth angrily before reaching down to grab Dipper by his hair and ramming his head into the side of the tub. Dipper clawed at Bill's hand, screaming for him to stop. "You stupid stupid kid! You're fucking disgusting!" Bill picked Dipper up by his hair, which has grown long once again, and dropped him back into the tub. His head slammed forcefully against the bottom of the tub, sharp, almost unbearable pain spread through his head and neck. His back arched from the sudden impact, gasping for the breath that was forced out of his lungs. It was happening again. His mind raced, remembering what had happened just outside that door a while ago; how much he had lost control of himself on that cold wooden floor. How much he praised whatever entity was watching him that night, for Bill did not see his convulsing body so weak and open for more of his torment. Now, however, he was not so grateful. He screamed and grabbed the back of his head. He felt warm wetness spread between his fingers. His vision blurred, blackening at the corners. His body began to vigorously convulse, he started drooling and frothing at the mouth. Bill was watching idly by, not sure what to do. Dipper started scratching and thrashing at the side of the rusty bin, attempting to gain control of his motor skills. His eyes darted back and forth, really not focusing on anything at all. His breath was rapid, hyperventilation was set in his lungs and all he could do was slip farther into the arctic water below him as it splashed around with each of his frantic movements. Submerged down into the water, he was beginning to drown, still grasping the side of the tub as he tried to resurface. He realized that his body was still very aware, but his body had gone off track and did these things sometimes. What were these experiences? 

Warm hands grasped his waist and pulled him up. His body thrashed and kicked around, his hands finding the broad shoulders of the body pulling him away from his confined trap. He heaved a cough, his fingers threading to the fibers of the shirt pressed against his side. Dipper clung to the body-hugging him, he was cold and warm all at once. His body started to stable itself; he'd realized that his eyes had been closed, not knowing he had shut them at all. He slowly opened them and blinked a few times until they had focused, he looked up groggily and settled upon a turf of blond hair. His voice was raspy when he spoke, phlegm stuck in his throat. 

"Bill...."


	6. A Little Author Note

Okay, so I know this story is probably going off the tracks with many of you. I feel like this story is seeming a little confusing and that it might not interest many of you anymore. I have a full story in my mind, however, the little details are going all over the place. I will continue to write this story with a time and I can explain any questions you may have about the story if you are confused. I must state that I can't answer questions about what is going to happen in the story's near future or about what will eventually happen in the character's relationship. 

The last chapter was a little long, I know, and it wasn't intentional but the plot point I was trying to reach ended up taking longer to get to than I planned. Sorry, I do try to make my chapters at most of 2200 to 2500 words so to actually reach a little over 3000 is my mistake. I don't want to have a long drawn out chapter for you guys to get bored with. I appreciate you guys' patience with this story and I swear it will move forward in the coming future. 

Thank you guys, Sincerely 

Author.~~~


	7. It Kills Me

Dipper was allowed to venture through the house once more. His interactions with Bill had become very limited. They never saw each other very much anymore, only crossing paths once or twice throughout the day or having to have wanted to eat together in the dining room. Dipper had experienced traumatic changes recently. He's been sleeping less and less these days, but blacking out occasionally from time to time, always waking up covered in sweat and confusion. He sat in his room most days just staring at the wall or the window and going in and out of reality. Feeling sudden sharp pains in his head before completely blacking out only to wake up later with no recollection of what had happened. He noticed his sudden increase in night terrors, those nights when he did get little sleep, he was awoken by his horrid screams and flailing arms. He noticed his ever so sudden mood changes, mood swings, and how quickly he would switch from one to the other, lashing out before quickly becoming sad and apologetic. Dipper was too afraid to ask Bill what could possibly be wrong with him. He was scared that Bill had stopped caring.....or that he had started caring rather. Dipper did notice the slight change in his expression, how he wasn't so frowned up every time he saw him, but how he seemed almost sorrowful, regretful even.

Dipper sat on his bed, staring out of the window while rubbing his wrist. He remembers the stinging pain that accompanied his containment. The way the cuffs cut into his skin and marked him as their property. It was torture in itself for him to not go insane while stuck in here. Unable to move, unable to leave, unable to dream of anywhere else with a constant reminder wrapped coldly around his wrist. He shook his head at the thoughts. It was over now and he could possibly move on from that. He laid his head upon his pillow and stared at the ceiling. He felt sleepy. His body was starting to drown out the noises outside, the singing birds became silent and numb to his ears. He was whisked away into a beautiful wonderland of distant tears and present smiles.

"I'm sorry, Oh God I'm so sorry!" Horrible sobs racked him to the core of his being. How could he have let himself so worked up over this? How could he stoop so low to his level that he could have done this? He cried helplessly into his cold, red hands. Gripping tightly at his face as hot tears streamed down his mortified features. The blood staining his cheeks and lips. A small, pink tongue swiped out to lick dryly at his lips in response to the situation, the predicament he had just put himself in. He suddenly savored the copper taste. "I'm...sorry...sorry. . . " His mutters lolled over and stilled in his throat. What had started to become of him? What was this feeling raging deep inside him? It burned with escape and anger. He'd not even noticed that his crying had silenced itself into soft humming. His eyes widened, he watched the motionless body between the cracks in his fingers. He breathed a raspy chuckle. He leaned forward and slowly, yet greedily, lapped at the cold blood that puddled around the body. He'd make himself sick to the taste of blood in his mouth, but he couldn't dare bring himself to stop. He clambered on to his hands and knees and crawled towards the source of this new desire he craved. He placed himself onto the still warm body, leaning in to slither his tongue into its mouth. It was not what someone would call "kissing" but more so how a child would messily eat a melting ice cream cone. Hurriedly and making a bigger mess than it has to be if they would slow down. He laid himself completely on top of the body, his legs on both sides of it like a pornstar about to seduce her next prey except there would be an absence of who's pleasuring who...

He moved from its mouth and began to hungrily lick at the gaping wound on its neck, it being the cause of so much blood as well as the cause of it's, per se, untimely, and very gruesome, death. He bit gently at it, this caused a gush of blood to flow into his mouth. The sudden rush of flavor on his tongue prompted his hips to thrust roughly against the deadman's pelvis. He relished in the feeling and did it again. And again. And again. In a continuous loop, he pounded his hips into the corpse's. His biting became sloppy and deep, the rotting flesh made it easy for him to pierce the body and drain the blood from it. What a repulsing act he was committing, oh so disgusting and inhumane. He enjoyed every second of it. His clothes were drenched, soaked in the plasma of the deceased and craving more of it. His hips moved faster, his hands gripped tightly at the corpse's clothes, his breathing had become shallow. Release was quickly approaching and soon enough it came crashing down on top of him.....

"Bill!"

Dipper screamed from his sleep. He thrashed, throwing his blankets on to the floor. His heart pounded dangerously hard against his rib cage. Beads of sweat pooled at his temples and dripped down off his chin. His breathing sounded loudly in his ears, still hearing his blood flowing pass his eardrums. 

The sun outside had gone down hours ago. The night sky loomed through his window and stared at him. Not a sound moved through the house. Dipper silently stood up from his bed and tip-toed down the stairs into the dark kitchen, as he reached the bottom step he mentally remembered what had happened there only mere days ago. He shuddered at the memory. He quickly stepped into the kitchen and turned on the light, what he saw when he looked up startled the piss out of him. Bill sat at the island, staring into space with a tumbler of his favorite whiskey in his hands. He seemed to hardly notice Dipper or the light, still staring at nothing. Dipper stood silently in the doorway, watching him to see what he would do. Bill immediately broke the silence.

"Another bad dream? I thought you stop having those ages ago..." Bill spoke softly, still not looking at Dipper. " You were still quite young when you had your last one, maybe 8 or 9...I don't know, the concept of age is something that escapes me sometimes..." Dipper could see from the corners of his eyes that he was looking at him, just not turning around. Dipper lifted his eyebrows in shock.

"What do you mean, the concept of age?... Hold on, how old am I? How long have I actually been kept here?" Dipper was starting to panic. What did he mean about age? Now that he thought about it, he has noticed the changes in his body and voice and stature. What was happening to him?

"I-" Bill started. "I-... you've been here for some time now. Years have gone by and you've been here for as long as I can remember. M-Mason you've-" Bill stuttered at the use of his real name. His eyes widened and trained on Dipper's reaction. He seemed flabbergasted, confused and slightly unsettled. "Dipper I mean..." Bill corrected himself. Dipper propped himself up against the doorframe and watched Bill. "You've...DAMMIT!" Bill shouted suddenly, knocking the tumbler over onto the floor. It smashed to pieces and, as an instinct, Dipper bent down to collect the pieces. As the years had gone, Dipper realized just how much of a sadist Bill was. He enjoyed breaking fragile yet sharp objects and making Dipper clean up the pieces with bare hands and kneel into the shards on bruised, calloused knees.

As the years had gone, this small instinct was normal for him.

It hurt no more but only a dull ache of Bill splitting open old wounds.

Bill said nothing as he picked up the glass. Dipper's expression reset to its normal, dull self. He disposed of the shards and turned back to Bill, he said nothing. They stared at each other. Dipper being the first to break the silence, not voicing any words but tapping audibly on the marble countertop while running a hand through his shoulder-length hair. He hummed for Bill to continue what he was saying before. Bill sighed but nodded likewise. They'd never really had a conversation before, one lasting long enough without conflict and pain. This was something new to experience, though keeping a spacious distance from one another in case of a sudden strike from either one's part was something they (they as in Dipper) kept in mind. Bill cleared his throat.

"Dipper, these things I tell you now. These things that have happened to you, by me, I am truly sorry for... It's hard to explain but hear me out—"

"Stop beating around the bush and spit it out." Dipper interrupted rudely. His arms were held close to his chest and his eyes were held in a cold glare. "Everything that I know now? Has been taught be me. Me and me alone. For as long as I can remember you've done nothing but torture and confine me in this goddamn house and you come to me right now in this very fucking kitchen to give some lousy ass apology? And you thought I'd be so dumb as to accept it. Open a god damn book for once in your fucking life and learn some things." Dipper leaned against the counter towards Bill, looking him dead in the eyes. "If you don't know anything about me, Bill, you should know this," Dipper inched closer, pulling Bill's collar up to prove his point. " I. HATE. YOU." He gritted his teeth and spat venom in his face through his very last breath. Dipper threw Bill back into his chair and stormed up the stairs back into his cold, isolated room. The door slammed shut and left Bill speechless.

Dipper leaned against the door and sighed. Crossing his arms over his chest, he slumped down farther onto the door. He drew in a ragged breath and silently cried on the floor. His hands found their way over his mouth to quiet his sobs but his body shook. Bill has done this to him. Done so many torturous things to him and at what cost? To throw so weak apology at him after almost killing him twice. Possibly more...Dipper shook violently at the memory of Bill's cold hands slamming against his face and body. What kind of sick fuck seems a-a truce over a war so massive? Something so painful and expect acceptance and forgiveness for what they've done. Dipper couldn't bring himself to try and believe Bill's lies. 

Dipper sat silently on the floor, curled up against the door and simply just holding himself. Some way of trying to keep himself from falling apart. His eyes lazily drifted across the room until they landed on that same black bag he'd haphazardly thrown his clothes into that other time ago. His clothes still reside in it. Remembering that night brought back painful memories and even more painful feelings. His body ached as he tried to stand. He cried out at the sudden pain at the back of his head as he collapsed onto the hard floor. His hair felt damp and his shoulder throbbed from the impact. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes once more. He brought his hands up to his face and laid there, pain succumbed to numbness, thoughts reverb to soundless noise. His throat vibrated violently until it became painful screams. Loud screams. He'd finally gone mad in this house and dammit why did it take him so long to finally lose it all. His throat should've been hoarse from all of his screamings and yellings. Dipper laid on the floor, head swimming in a puddle of his own blood (he presumed it to be blood anyway)and screaming his lungs out. His fingernails dug into his face and his feet kicked at the floor. Body thrashing and thumping against the floor, drool and blood spewing from his mouth. His stomach burned and his head swarmed with static. 

Please let me die. Please let me die here. I just want to die here. I just want to...

"Dipper!" Strong hands grabbed at his sides and pulled him into someone's lap. They shook at his body and a voice called out his name. 

"Dammit Dammit Dammit! Another episode, Dipper!... Listen...Can you...hear...Look at me...Dipper just...C'mon breathe! "

The words melding together until the voices stop. 

"Dipper! Another episode, Dipper! I'll have to call you in a doctor. These things seem to be coming out of nowhere and so suddenly too." A sweet but frantic voice of a woman called out to him. His mother brushed her dainty hands through his damp hair. His breathing was rapid and hard against his ears. His heart pounded on his ribcage. His eyes looked around were not focusing on anything. He was shaking, sweating. The warmth of his mother's hands left him as he was stretched out onto a gurney and an oxygen mask was placed onto his mouth and nose. His body shifted slightly from the movement of the stretcher rolling him away. People (Doctor's he thought) stood on both sides. His vision blurred, making them hard to see properly. They were talking but could only make out so many words. 

"These-- these episodes are so frequent, doctor, that it's such a miracle for a boy his age and stature to still be alive right now." 

"His heart rate, doctor, is not readable on the charts...50 and quickly dropping, sir" 

" His breathing is slowing down, doctor...10 per minute and slowly falling, sir." 

Lights above rapidly drifted passed his vision. They were blinding. A steady beeping beside him lolled him to a state of half awake and half asleep. He could feel his breath fogging up the glass. The doctors continued talking. 

"Gather up his folks....this boy won't make it through the night..." 

The beeping grew louder and quick. 

"D-Doctor, look, his heart rate is starting to rise and I don't believe it's stopping. It's 120, sir" 

"His breathing is fluctuating too...20 to 40. A mixed range, doctor." 

His body thrashed as straps were suddenly draped across him to keep him steady. The breathing mask had been knocked off and left next to him. His vision shifted in and out. He was going to die. Flashed of his mother and sister and father filled his mind. He smiled mentally at the thought of them. He had no control of his muscles at the moment. He remembered the way his sister smiled and danced around in those sparkly sweaters she loved so much. The way his mother and father laughed at his jokes and how his sister laughed just a little too hard. These would be the times he missed the most. He felt a sharp pinch as a needle was injected into his arm. Frantic doctors drew him up and placed him onto a work station. It was now or never. 

"100 CC's, doctor..." 

"I'm not getting a pulse, sir" 

"No pulse, doctor...breathing slowly to 5, sir" 

"Prepare two minutes to clear...get his shirt out of the way.."

"Doc...h-he's not breathing....there is no pulse." 

Dipper lurched forward, breathing heavy into a mask draped across his face. He looked around, completely disillusioned by what he was seeing. This bed was not his own. This floor was not his own. This room was not his own. He had been brought out. Brought away from all the torture and confinement. He frantically threw the covers off of him and stumbled to the doorframe, quickly grasping hold of it. He looked around. The lights were blinding and it smelled of disinfectant and bleach. There were sounds. Lots of sounds he could hardly distinguish but one that stuck out to him so loudly were the sounds of...people. People were talking and typing and laughing and everything else in between. He heaved a dry chuckle in astonishment. He had been set free. Able to leave and he, now, was so happy. He couldn't believe it. He needed help, however. Needed someone to be his savior because he knew Bill was still around, lurking. Not noticing his legs were in excruciating pain, they'd given out from underneath him. He collapsed on the floor. He shook from his daze and hurriedly tried to stand up. "P-please...I need help..." He called out softly. A woman. A fucking woman. A person other than Bill appeared in his light and placed a hand on his shoulder. She smiled at him. "Whoa whoa, there big guy. You're up and at'em aren't ya? All that medicine we've given ya, I'm sure. Let's get you back to bed and check your vitals." Dipper complied before sitting back down onto the bed. He was dreaming. He was sure of it. He had so many questions running through his mind, "Where's Bill?", "Why did he let me go so easily after all this time?", "Where was I going to go now?" 

"M-Ma'am...W-where are we, Where am I? I'm not supposed to be here, I was c-ca-captured and imprisoned and I have no idea why or how I got here, but-but-but I need help. He's here, I know he is, please just...just.." Dipper stammered, not realizing he'd grabbed onto the woman in a panic. "Sir, Sir...I don't have any idea what you are talking about but just this morning you were brought in by a nice gentleman that said you were in danger and then he just...walked away." Dipper stared in awe at her. A nice gentleman? Bill was never nice to him. What was he getting at? Dipper was going to figure it out. He was scared and confused. Out of his normal setting with nowhere else to go.

"Where are we?" Dipper spoke to the woman as she checked his blood pressure. 

"Gravity Falls, why?" 

And that's where he'll look first. He'll stay here and keep away from any and everybody. 

He'd get his savior. It's now or never.


	8. My savior,Oh, Savior

Dipper was soon released from the hospital. He was asked if he'd arrived with anyone but he quickly denied it and left without further question. He'd seen no sign of Bill in the last few days he'd been at the hospital and quickly became paranoid that he was waiting and watching him from a distance. The air around him blew gently, causing him to pull himself closer. He was left wearing a drafty white T-shirt and a part of ripped jeans that didn't belong to him, something the hospital was obligated to give him since he had arrived with little to nothing. The place he had been left was surrounded by busy people. People chatting and walking by, people rushing around to get to where they had to be, and people who just sat at waited around with nothing better to do. They were free to do as they pleased. 

How long had they been able to do this? 

Something he had also noticed was the lack of snow covering the ground. Not a bit of ground had an inch of snow upon it. Leaves in a variety of colors littered the ground around him. He had read this to be autumn but had truly never truly experienced it. He eyes were wide and wonderous. He'd never felt anything so different before, so pleasant and...and...free? He hugged himself tighter and smiled before letting out a joyous laugh. He broke out into a sprint that soon turned into a full run. He stumbled a bit but, despite that, he ran and ran. He was free for the time being and dammit he was going to enjoy this breath of fresh air. 

Once he'd tired himself out, he realized he'd ran all into the woods. This looked completely different from where he had been before. The trees weren't really dense but it was still somewhat hard to see. He looked around him and noticed small birds chirping and little insects buzzing around. He was so much closer to nature than he'd thought he'd ever be. He laughed again. Loud enough to get a few birds close by to fly away. He still could not believe this. He was here. Out in the open and so, so, so... a crunching behind him made him pause. He gasped before taking off deeper into the forest. He stumbled a bit as his feet lost some grip of the ground, the leaves were wet from morning dew. An uprooted tree stump caught the base of his foot suddenly. He tumbled down a hill through some bushes and low hanging branches that ripped past him. He landed abruptly onto hard pavement, his face smacking harshly onto it. He groaned. His looked up swiftly to see if he was still being chased to find a lot full of cars, behind them stood a building that smelled like maple syrup and rotting wood. Dipper made a face of disgust at that. He stood up and walked towards the building to realize it was actually a restaurant, a run-down one, but a restaurant nonetheless. He staggered a bit as he stood to his feet. He shook off the dirt and leaves that clung to his body. Though he did just fall through a tumble of dirt, leaves, and shrub, nothing can keep him from relishing in this breath of fresh free air. No more being crushed under the thumb of Bill and his torturous antics. His shirt had smudges of dirt on it with a small patch of blood seeping through it on the lower side of his back where he had landed on the wrong side of a sharp rock but he paid no mind to the matter and walked hurriedly inside the establishment before his paranoia began to set in once more. 

A bell sounded above the door. Dipper jumped in surprise by the slight noise and moved his hands to quickly cover his face, as instinct he began muttering a sincere apology in hopes of not being hit like he always was. "Sorry, s-sorry sir, I just..." No one was there. Only people still chattering and laughing as if not noticing the boy shaking in the corner. Bill was nowhere in sight. It was only Dipper's paranoia getting in the way again. He sighed and sat against the wall opposite of the rest of the world of free and happy people. This was a mistake. He should've never left the hospital alone. Should've tried to find a way back home...or to that place he stayed for the sake of Bill. He shouldn't be here. Freedom was something he didn't deserve. Dipper held himself tighter as warm tears spilled from his eyes. He wanted to be free. He was so scared that it had happened so suddenly. What was he to do now? No way of getting money. No place to stay. No one to go to. Nowhere to turn but back to Bill. He hated it so, but where else was he supposed to go. Bill was his only home. 

A loud thud shook him from his stance. He quickly snapped his head up and realized he was suddenly being approached by a big, round guy. He wore a brown baseball cap and an extremely large shirt with a question mark on the front, fading a bit around the edges with khaki cargo shorts at the base. He looked gruffly yet snuggly at the same time. This frightened Dipper tremendously. Dipper quickly stood up and wiped away any remaining tears. The guy steadily approaching. Dipper had never been approached before. He had no idea what to do in this situation, was this guy coming to take him away, coming to take him back to Bill? He needed to get out of here. He didn't want to find out what power this unknown man had. He bolted right back out the door he had entered through, running into the array of cars and trucks in the lot. He dodged cars as he ran into the street, visually apologizing to the drivers while he dodged more oncoming cars. One old, rickety pick up came barrelling towards him in the middle of the street. With nowhere else to move to prevent the collision, he stood with his arms covering his face and braced for impact. A scream leaped from his lungs as he soon collided with the car, rolling over it and into the back of the pickup. His side hurt a bit but soon relaxed as the feeling of unconsciousness laid over him. Frantic voices and yelling were groggy into a mix of pulsating sounds. 

He's got to learn to stop doing this. 

He awoke in a cold sweat. A cold towel laid across his forehead and warm blankets were draped around his torso. A large red stain painted his white T-shirt. He shuddered. He'd just been hit by a truck and now he'd been kidnapped. All this in a single day? How much worse can freedom get, Dipper thought considerably. He moved the blankets aside and stood up. An extreme pain shot up his right side where he had been hit. It only bothered him slightly, however. He stumbled over to a large, floor-length mirror in the corner of the room. He grimaced at the nasty cut that ran across the side of his forehead, running from his hairline to the tip of his left ear. Oh, that's not so bad, he guessed. Limping back to the bed, he found the night table's drawer was slightly ajar. Curiosity growing evermore, he quickly dug into the drawer and found multiple supplies including a large sewing needle and a few pieces of thread. He gently grabbed the needle and thread and stared at them. He knew what he had to do now. He'd done it time and time again. He sighed as he prepped the needle. Lifting his shirt, he examined expectedly larger scar on his right side, extending from under his ribs to his lower hip. It wasn't that bad. A few stitches and he'll be fine. He leaned back on the bed and placed his shirt in his mouth, holding it above the cut, he gently pinched the edges of the wound together. He exhaled deeply through his nose, easing himself through the pain. The first piercing of the needle through his skin felt like ice. It burned only lightly, bringing a tear to his eye. His shirt was wet from spit and his hand was shaking. He kept going, however. A loud thump startled him causing him to accidentally prick his finger. "Ah, shit!" He quickly sat up and licked his finger. He looked swiftly at the door as it abruptly slammed open. 

There stood a girl dressed in all blue save for her red skirt and her black shoes. Her hair was long and flowing, brown to match her big round eyes. Her mouth was open in a gigantic, and seemingly unhumanly wide, O shape. She stared at Dipper in surprise. He stared back. Without breaking eye contact, he snapped the thread and placed it and the needle to the side. Her eyes stared down at the slightly sewn wound on his stomach then to the one across his forehead. Dipper watched as her eyes filled with big tears as they cascaded down her red cheeks. He didn't mean to frighten her. 

"You're awake..." 

"H-hey hey, calm down. It's alright I'm not hu--HEY!" 

She gently wrapped her arms around his neck, careful to not touch his wound. She cried heavily on his shoulder, hanging onto him with all of her weight. She silently muttered to herself, squeezing him from time to time. Startled, Dipper hesitantly patted her shoulders. "H-hey, what's going on? Why are you hugging me and...and crying on me?" Her body stiffened before looking up at him in confusion. She brought her shaking hands up to cup his face, staring into his eyes. Huh...they looked just like his. Same kind of brown that looked like little pools of chocolate. 

"Are you saying...you don't r-remember me?" She said

Dipper shook his head. A sudden feeling of deja vu fell over him, however, making him feel suddenly forgetful. He shook his head again, confirming this time. "I have no idea who you are or where I am. Where am I?" He said as he looked around the room. It was dull save for a few posters and sparkly decorations occupying the opposite side of the room. The side he was on had nothing but a bed and a night table. A triangle shaped window sat in the center of the wall. An eye shape sat in the center of the window. Weird, that seems familiar too. The girl stood up swiftly, walking over to the window he had just been examining. "C'mon, you don't remember this place? This is the mystery shack, we're in Gravity Falls. This is your home...Do you seriously not remember any of this?" Her voice cracked as she spoke. Big tears spilled over her flushed cheeks. She fell to her knees and wept in front of the big window. Why did she keep asking if he remembered anything? Was he suppose to? What if this was one of Bill's tricks? Trying to lure him back home? He wouldn't let him win this one. No matter how much he got hurt, he'd never go back. He wouldn't let him. 

"Whatever you're playing at, I won't go back. Ever. Thanks for...kidnapping me I guess?" Dipper stood and turned on his heels, grabbing the needle and thread on his way out the door. 

"We didn't kidnap you, Dipper!" The girl burst through the doorway. Her tears had dried and her face held hard. 

"How...How did you know my name?" Dipper questioned. "He-he gave it to you, didn't he? You were supposed to lure me out here so he can take me back. I'm. Not. Going. BACK!" Dipper's breathing had started to pick up pace. His heart pounded against his chest, sweat glistened at his temples. His body wavered a bit, room spinning around slowly. He felt his foot lose grip from the floor, catching the top step of the staircase. Dipper reared back, the sight of the stairs bringing back horrible, horrible memories. A small yelp escaped past his quivering lips. He bumped the wall next to him, another takeback and a yelp. Panic seeped into his system. In his mind, he had never truly left the house. He was still here being tortured and beaten and sworn at and...and...

"Dipper! What are you talking about?!" 

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry! I-It won't happen again." 

"Stop it, you're gonna fall down!" 

"Please...Please have mercy, sir!" 

"Shut up! You're nothing but a fuck up! A complete and utterly useless piece of shit! Look at this mess you've made!" The glasses break. 

"S-sir please, it w-wasn't my fault. I only was putting the dishes away and...and" 

"And! And! That's all you ever have, excuses! Give it to me!" You have to give it to him, DIpper. Stop fighting against him. 

Don't give it to him! Don't let the monster win again. 

Pathetic little--

"Sir! Please, please...I'm sorry." 

"HAND IT TO ME NOW OR IT WILL BE WORSE!" Give it to him. 

Give it to him

Give it to him

That's right...

Just as we suspected you would...you coward.

"MERCY!" 

"DIPPER!" 

Dipper stared up at the girl. His hands slipped from his face, red from his tears. He was shaking. He wasn't there anymore. He wasn't dreaming anymore. He was here. He was out. There was nothing to fear anymore, he had no reason to fear anything at all anymore but he still couldn't help but feel...on edge. Like he didn't belong here. 

Dipper looked up from where he had been sitting, pressed flat against the wall. The girl stood there, her expression held stern and hurt. A twisted confliction of emotions altogether. "I didn't mean for you to see that, I...I didn't even know that it would happen so suddenly...I-I-" 

"Stop apologizing. You don't need to apologize anymore, Dipper..." She cut him off abruptly. She stooped down, squatting down to look him in his eyes. Dipper swallowed thickly. A weak smile, similar to a hurt mother's wary smile, tugged at her lips, small tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. She looked like she'd been through it all. Like it was the first time she'd smiled in years. Dipper stared back at her. 

"Please, p-please tell me how you know my name? " 

Her eyes flickered for a moment as if not sure what to tell him. She visibly swallowed and blinked away her forming tears. A sad chuckle escaped her mouth. Dipper didn't see what was so funny. "What's so funny? You're not explaining what's going on." Dipper insisted. He needed answers and he needed them now. He also needed to find a way out of this place before something bad happens or worse...Bill finds him. 

"I'm just so happy that we got you back." 

"Got me back? Back from where? I-I don't remember you nor do I remember even have met you. Who are you?" 

"Dipper, it's me, Mabel. Your sister." 

Silence...

"M-Mabel?" Dipper questioned. He cupped her face in his hands. He had a sister? A sister. Fresh tears streamed slowly down his face now. He'd heard that name so many times in his dreams that it was often so real like that name had a purpose. That name he'd screamed that night...what he said to Bill...

"Mabel! She loved me, I had a family and you took me from them! You took my life away from me, you bastard!" 

Mabel touched his hands, nodding as tears of her own poured from her eyes. She smiled brighter, straight white teeth peeked from under her red lips. Dipper had a loss for words. So they sat there together, holding each other. Dipper's voice was more reassuring this time he spoke. He gripped Mabel's face tighter, squishing her cheeks together slightly. He smiled widely, his eyes opened with the realization. Dipper quickly hugged Mabel. 

"I remember. I remember! I h-have a family." Dipper pulled her back to look at her face. "Oh my god! You're Mabel. Y-you're my sister and...and...who else is here?" Dipper's heart couldn't take such joy and relief. He didn't even know what this could feel like, let alone experience it. His mind was working at rapid speeds, analyzing everything. He remembered, after all these years he remembered, not much of anything else but his memories recalled Mabel. His sister. What had happened after all this time? What was going to happen now that he had been reunited with her? He was still taking in so much at once, he was sure he would collapse very soon. He was too happy, however, to sleep a wink. 

Mabel giggled. "C'mon let me show everyone you're awake. You must be starving too. Everyone will be so happy that you are here and alive and..." 

Dipper stood up next to Mabel, being extremely careful, while still fearful, of the stairs.

"I never gave up hope, Dipper. I knew you were still alive and I knew we would find you." Her arms wrapped tightly around her...brother...

Wow, he was a brother now. He chuckled, wincing at the slight pressure on his side. Mabel led them both to what he presumed to be the kitchen. There was a gather of people in there, all stunned and seemingly relieved. 

"DIPPER!" 

For the first time in his life, he was truly happy. 

For the first time in his life, he felt unafraid. No apprehension of what's to come, no more worrying about what he has done or what he could do wrong. 

There was no more suffering for now. 

He'd found his savior


	9. I Won't Let Him Get You Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. Yeah this one is a bit shorter than the rest but I've been kind of busy over the past few months. Again sorry. Please Enjoy

Multiple arms wrapped firmly themselves around Dipper's lanky body. Surprised but nonetheless, he was happy. Mabel smiled from the doorway, fresh tears were clouding her vision but the look on her brother's face was secured tightly in her memory. Suddenly, multiple voices began speaking at once, asking questions and trying to figure out if he was okay or hurt. Dipper tried to answer them the best he could.

"Dipper, dear lord, where have you been? We've been worried sick about you." A gruff voice approached Dipper's ears. A slouchy man limped over to him, unshed tears were present in his eyes but a smile was ever-present upon his lips. Dipper's eyebrows furrowed together, a smile pulling on his own lips. He hugged the man in front of him, still not sure who he was but happy that he cared for his wellbeing. His body racked from his broken sobs, unable to string a single sentence together. Gentle yet calloused hands rubbed at his back soothingly, Dipper not yet ready to let go. The room stilled around them.

"Dipper?" The man suggested again, trying to receive an answer from the crying boy underneath him. Dipper sat up and quickly wiped his eyes, "Sorry, sorry. I guess I just got a little overwhelmed." He let out a sad chuckle. "W-who are you people? Sorry if I seem skittish, I j-just have never been around so many people at once before." A sad smile sat upon his lips, hinting at how long he'd actually been away from the world. The people in the kitchen shared the same smile.

The gruff looking man took Dipper's hand and lead him over to the table, everyone else falling suit. A woman with deep ginger hair placed her hands on top of Dipper's, somewhat holding them in hers. "My name is Wendy. I work here in the Shack with your Great Uncle and your sister. I've never met you but I've heard so much about you. I'm glad that you're back." Wendy smiled, letting his hands go. The large man from early jumped into his vision, causing him to shriek and curl up into himself. The large man chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "S-sorry for scaring you earlier, you caught Mabel's attention but she was too nervous to approach you and then there was the whole thing with the pickup, heh." Dipper stared at the man, strangely. He sputtered for a moment before bursting out into spontaneous laughter. He winced, however, from the sudden pain in his side. He gripped his stomach lightly and laughed through his pain.

"I've never thought I could ever even laugh anymore. Hard to believe I could even laugh this hard." He wiped a tear from his eye, looking up around at the family he's sure he once had. But it's his fault they're broken in the first place. He was gone for years upon years and....

"How long have I been gone?" He said suddenly. The room's light and family atmosphere had quickly dissipated into something tense and hard to breathe. His eyes were wide and his fist were clutching the table cloth. He'd missed so much, he was sure. His entire life locked away from everything and at what cost. He did not know.  
Everyone exchanged a look of concern and worry. Mabel steppes forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Look.....Dipper. That doesn't matter now. What matters is that you're back and right here in our home..."

"That long huh....enough for you to stop counting the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months....years" he swallowed thickly at the last bit. He was completely sure years had passed by. Just by the look of his own reflection. He just didn't know how many.  
He stood up, wobbling a bit.  
"It matters, I know, a lot that I'm back. But by now you're sure there's no real justice served. He will be back. And he will take me away again. And it'll be worse. I don't know his motive for actually sending me here, but sooner or later he will realize his mistake and drag me away kicking and screaming." He stared up at his family. Sorrow. Deep deep sorrow filled his eyes and at that point he couldn't take it. Couldn't take the looks they were all giving him at once. Could bare to take his sister's tear stained rosy cheeks mocking him that he can't stay for long. His sturdy demeanor was cracking.  
"I wish....I wish I could stay longer, stay forever even but.."

"Then stay." His sister clutched his hands in hers and begged him. "Please"  
His resist to hug her wasn't very strong as he wrapped his trembling arms around her. Large, terrified streams of tears ran down his cheeks. His mouth agape and sobbing loudly in her ear. Face likely red and hot against hers.  
"F-for years......years, I-I've been b-be-beaten and b-bruised....But n-nothing pains m-me m-more th-a-an havin-g to leave you again."  
Mabel held tight to his shirt, digging her bare nails into the fabric. Suddenly more arms were wrapped round them, squeezing him.

Stan pulled away from the huddle. He gripped Dipper by the shoulders and stared him in the eyes. "He won't be pulling you away from us again, you hear me? He won't be taking you away." Dipper's body tensed, his eyes shut tight and his face red and hot. His whole body tight. He nodded his head, "Please, please" he gripped his great uncle's shirt in his shaking fist. Scared if he let go, he's be gone forever. Never to come back and beaten within an inch of his life. "Please don't let him take me away again. Oh god please don't..." he said through heaving lungs and burning tears. He fell to his knees and hugged himself. "Please help me."

Mabel knelt beside her brother, placing cool calming hands on both sides of his burning face. He looked up at here, looking like he'd seen a ghost. She smiled at him. Like an angel coming to a lost soul in a desert wasteland, burdened by grief and suffering and ready to be taking away from all the pain they've endured, all the trauma and strife of their lives. She was his guardian angel. His protector. His savior. His everything. "I love you. Okay? He won't hurt you. He won't come here. I've got you and I want you to know that you are safe and loved here." She placed a gentle kiss against his rough bangs. His eyes widened farther, like he had never been touch like that ever in his life.

Because he hasn't. Never has he receive such a display of love or affection to the point where his eyes welded with more tears. His heart swelled and his pulse fluttered.

"Thank you."

"I won't let him get to you.”


	10. Only Thing We Have To Fear Is Fear Itself

Only two days had gone by and the house was in chaos….but in a good way.   
Dipper had grown to learn so much in the last 40 to 48 hours and he had to say that this was the best feeling he had ever felt. His cheeks were constantly red and sore from smiling. His throat and stomach ached from laughing and screaming with joy. In those last two days, he’d received so much more than he’d ever thought to receive in his lifetime. For once in his life someone else was at his beck and call and actually showed him something Bill had never. And that was love. 

He’d slept through the night terrors and awoke with a start once again. Startled by the unfamiliar change to his room, not remembering that he was actually free from the confinements of that ice cold house and the slender fingers of his tormentor. His legs tangled in the blue comforter while sweat beaded at his temples. Frantically looking around only to land on the soft features of his sister, still slumbering away in what seemed like a dreamless sleep. How he envied that. He climbed out of his bed and ended up wandering to the window seat that illuminated the twins entire room. He smiled sadly at the thought of his twin. How it must of hurt so to grow up knowing you’ve completely lost your other half, the one who could’ve had your back when they weren’t sure they even had their own. Maybe it hurts more not knowing you had someone like that either. Not knowing you share a kindled connection with someone with your very blood running through them. He sat and pondered wearily about how many nights he’d kept his sister up through the night, crying and wondering if he would ever actually come back. If he ever actually existed. He rested his head upon his knee and stared out into the starry night. The woods he had only dreamt were staring right back at him. A broken sob racked his body. Knowing that what he was seeing was actually wasn’t the snowy barren winter landscape that he was so use to seeing. Silent tears he hadn’t noticed steamed down his face and dripped onto his knee, running down his leg and onto the cushion underneath him. He blinked away his tears as he heard the distance sound of thunder roaring against the span of trees across the window. The quiet pitter patter of rain hitting the glass caused his eyelids to droop and yawn into his elbow. 

How long has it been since he’s been so at peace? 

 

The sun beamed through the colored glass window, shining bright over Dipper as he slowly woke. He peered out of it and caught a glimpse of his Great Uncle, Mabel continuously persisted that he call him “Grunkle” but he politely declined her every time, greeting a load of tourist into his home downstairs. When he settled in only a day ago, he was introduced to the fact that his family owned a business. A “Tourist Trap” Mabel called it. He liked the idea of it. He had only been inside once or twice since his stay and he reviled in the nicknacks and the obscene attractions his Great Uncle had seemingly thrown together. A smile pulled at his lips as he stood from the window seat he’d apparently slept in the night prior. He stretched and yawned, still smiling to himself. 

“You’re finally awake. How did you sleep?” He turned to the sound of the voice. His sister had been perched in the doorway of their shared room. She wore a seldom smile, her arms crossed over her chest and her hands fiddling with the hem of her pink sweater. A nice little birthday cake sat in the center of it, a single candle lit in it. 

“Fine. Great even, what about you, Mabel?” 

A response was left trailing on her lips. Her smile faltering only slight, but her eyes shown something of remorse and deep pain. Dipper could see that she looked troubled, her hands traveling up to grip herself tighter, rosy knuckles rubbing the fabric between her fingers. A tear so light and small, if you blink you might miss it spilt from her eye. When it dripped from her long eyelashes she stuttered a breath and practically fell against the threshold of the door. He feet seeming to fail her. Dipper ran to her arms and held her in his arms. 

“Mabel, you’re shaking.” 

She said nothing as she fell into her brother’s shoulder. She squeezed him tight and cried painfully into him. He felt her pain, been through her shoes and understood that she had gone through it too. She had been beaten and bruised emotionally. Never to experience some things like he hadn’t either, every day dragging by with the fear of death and loneliness. He had more tears to cry, sure, but he knew now he hadn’t to be sane for her. Be the strong one while she let go. Be big while she stayed little. Be there while she’s gone. Keep it together while she’s slowly breaking and falling apart right here in his arms. He felt himself hiccup a sob before covering his mouth with a shaky hand, his sister’s hair caught between his fingers. He closed his eyes and began to sway with his sister. Her, following in his footsteps. Anything to get their mind of the crashing realization that they were here in each others arms for real this time. Not just some fantasy of long yearning to hold each other and to laugh and to cry and to scream and to argue because they hate each other so fucking much that their throats are hoarse and they see stars! To dance and to sing their hearts out, to run and to jump and to spin, twirl and leap at the chance to feel each other like siblings should! To move and to breathe and to finally fucking live so normal that their friends will think they’re insane! This is what it’s like to feel alive and be free. To finally be…here. Complete. 

They continued to sway and dance. Dipper grabbed his sister’s hand, spinning her around and pulling her back to him. She laughed tiredly. Her eyes look like she hadn’t slept in years. Like it was impossible to physically close her eyes and dream something other than him for once….and he knew, deep down, that that’s true. He’s sure that he looks quite the same.   
He laughed deeply, shaking his head as she ruffled his hair. 

Her smile didn’t falter this time when she spoke. She sat on her bed and looked down at her feet, out of breath. Dipper glanced down at his own, noticing they were bare but not cold as he was use to. Not use to the tattered jeans he was wearing now.

“Dipper….I have to show you something. Something I’m not exactly sure you’ve experienced before or or at least not as special as you would’ve liked.” She stood and grabbed her brother’s hands, pulling him out of the door of the attic and trotting down the stairs. 

“Stay here for a moment. I’ll be right back I promise.” 

He was reluctant to let her hands go. He tugged at them gently. A gleam in his eye that showed worry and hesitation. She returned the look. Only this showed a look of promise and care. Letting him know that she won’t be far from him, telling him that she will return just the same. He trusted that she would. Letting her go, he stayed while she ran into the kitchen and heard hushed whispers and quiet laughs. 

And suddenly everything was quiet….

The lights flickered off and he was left in the dark. Alone and in the dark. In the corner of his eye he saw a sliver of glister fall from above and disappear onto the ground below. Then there were more falling. He tried desperately to grasp them in his hands but every time he thought he’d finally caught one, it would just melt in his hands and slide down his wrists. The specks began to cover the ground, pooling at his feet and sending chills up his spine. Cold and piercing like knives. He could see his breath in a cloud of smoke in front of him. He hugged himself tight and before he could catch himself, he fell to his knees and laid in the snow. Dark, alone, and cold. This is a feeling he was use to. Something, however, was missing. Something worse than all of these terrible terrible things combined. It ached in his mind and in his soul that it was missing. Somehow pained him that it wasn’t there now and how he seemed to miss it. It practically ripped a scream from his lips. He clawed at the snow as blood was caked under his fingernails, bruises and cuts formed painfully up his arm and traveled down his body. His lips cracked and split, his hair mat against his forehead, blood splotches covered his shirt in various areas. His body pained, cold and shaking. He remembered this from some time ago. This exact moment where he laid helpless in the snow and how he was dragged back into that house and beaten mercilessly. Left to die on the floor. Another shout of pain leaped from his lungs as he curled in on himself and sobbed into the snow. The blood and tears melting it down. 

“Help m-me, oh god help me please” he whimpered. 

Sudden nimble yet strong fingers grasped his long locks in-between their knuckles and pulled as hard as they possibly could. They yanked and pulled while he withered and kicked up the snow and frozen mud from his cold bare feet. His hands scraping and clawing at their arms, trying desperately to pull them away from him. He screamed as hard as he could until his throat burn and blood spilt from the corners of his lips. 

“P-Please let me go, Oh god please stop and let me live, let me go!” 

He begged and cried. His head throbbed and his fingertips bled. 

“C’mon, we both know, my little Pine-Tree, that there. is. no. God!”  
A knee to the back of the head silenced his screams to a sudden spluttering fit of blood and vomit. He held his stomach in pain as he emptied it into the snow. It burned his throat as he sobbed. More screams rippled through his body, pounding his bloodied fist into the snow. There was nothing nothing left for him, is there? He can’t be strong for himself, for his sister, for his family, for his friends. Could anything be worse that being constantly tormented by this monster day in and day out. He can’t do anything. His guardian angel, oh god how his guardian angel could see him so battered and beaten to the brink of death….he breathed in. 

He swallowed thickly, spitting the blood out of his mouth. 

“You’re nothing.” His whispered to himself. 

“You are worthless.   
You have no self-control.   
You will forever be a sick sick pathetic fuck with no heart.  
I’ll tell you what you want to hear, you sick fuck!  
Listen to me!” 

Dipper stood to his feet, stumbling a bit. He wiped the blood from his nose and lips and looked toward the sky above. Rain pelted against his face. Heavy rain that washed his hair and drenched his clothes. The snow had melted away and he was left in the dark of the room. He screamed loudly. Piercing the silence like the roar of a lion. His knees buckled and knocked into each other but he held steady. 

“I’m still breathing.” 

The rain pelted harder, like stones falling from the sky. 

“I’m alive” 

Thunder and lighting clashed across the clouds. 

“You took just about everything from me. My body. My peace. My patience. My years. But one thing you can not have, and that is my mind….”

More thunder roared from the sky. The ground shakes. Like a demon opened up the pits of hell and screeched across the land that he was coming. And he probably was. In the form of a man that walked the earth in search for something he believed to have lost. And that was him. To get it back and break back down piece by little piece and scatter them around the world for no one to ever find and place back together. But Dipper just can’t let that happen. He know now that he was once glass but is now harder than steel. He can admit that he was weak and unable to grasp the reason for why Bill would do something so awful to him, but now he knows why and use it against him.

Bill is weak too. 

Now the room is still dark and calm. 

 

“Shhhhhhh….. Happy Birthday to you…Happy Birthday to you.”   
“Happy Birthday, dear Mason….Happy birthday to you….make a wish”

The darkness cleared away and Mabel was there, holding a cake to his face with 17 blue striped candles wisping away in front of him. He stared down at the tiny flames, their light glinting over his eyes like stars reflecting on a water’s surface. 

“What is this? What’s this cake for?”   
The heat of the fire danced along his nostrils, his shallow breathing gently blowing them about but not blowing them out. He stared up at his sister, her eyes reflecting the flames as well. A large smile stretching her pink lips, her hair thrown over her shoulder to keep from the fire. Behind her he could see his Great Uncle and his two much older friends, all smiling and staring at him. He pushed himself flat against the wall. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on here. To be completely honest he was a little frightened by the sudden exertion of flames and cake in his face. 

“C’mon Dipper. Make a wish.” Mabel insisted. 

He glanced between the people surrounding him in the room.   
“M-make a wish? What for? Will it c-come true?” 

Mabel pulled the cake away from him, putting it on the living room table. She turned to her frightened brother and grabbed his hand, pulling him to the couch to sit next to her. The smile she wore showed nothing but pure joy and relief. The others in the room sat in various areas if the room, Stan taking the recliner in the corner while Soos and Wendy sat at the dining table adjacent from the living area. Mabel placed both her hands upon her brother’s shoulders, directing him towards the still burning cake in front of them. 

“Don’t worry, Dipper. They’re just for decoration. This is special, a special occasion for the both of us. I am so happy that you have returned to us and at the time you did….well.” She tucked a turf of hair behind Dipper’s ear, staring in to his eyes to know that he was listening. 

“What I’m trying to say here is that…”  
She sighed and picked up the cake once more. She blew out a portion of the candles on the cake and shoved the rest towards Dipper to blow out as well. 

“Happy Birthday to us, twinster. Today is you’re birthday.” She gleamed.

**Author's Note:**

> EHEHHHHHHHH://///


End file.
